Pomegranate
by Claire Starling
Summary: Christine POV. But more than anything, I wish I did not eat the Pomegranate, the sweet irresistible taste of his music. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I wish I could claim the rights to this, but it doesn't belong to me.

**Pomegranate**

I still go down there. I know he is long gone, that all that remains of him is the ghost of his presence, but I come anyway. Like Persephone returning to Hades, I come ritualistically. However, no matter how many times I go, the site of his ruined kingdom of music still destroys me. The candelabras are knocked over, his music is burned, his pipe organ is dismantled, and my once graceful bed is nothing more than a pile of kinder wood and feathers. I refused to rebuild, the whole scene remains a rather twisted shrine to my beloved Hades, whose passion was so strong and consuming that it demolished every other emotion until all that was left was a pile of mixed feelings, all torn to pieces.

Mimicking his actions from so many years ago, I leave a rose with a white hair ribbon tied to it that still smells of my perfume. I have a rose garden for this very purpose. Only I am allowed to tend to these roses, I do not want them to be tainted by another's touch. They have to belong solely to me. I painstakingly remove the thorns from each stem, so that the simple beauty of the rose will have no conditions. He can touch it without being hurt.

I come every Thursday, on the fourth day when the sun and the moon were created. Each time I return, there is a rose waiting for me with a black ribbon tied about it scented heavily with his cologne. We never speak and we never see each other for fear of what we may do or say that we cannot undo. I simply take his flower home and wear his ribbon buried within my various skirts, lost to Raoul's gaze. The rose replaces the old one on the vase on my mantel. Raoul does not know where the rose really came from and for that I am grateful.

I fear I am too much like Persephone, forever tainted by the darkness. When I was a child, the darkness was something to be frightened of. The very thought of being alone in the dark made me tremble with fear. But Erik showed me that darkness was something to be cherished, explored. He took away my ability to frolic freely in the sunlight. Even now I have problems remaining in the sun for long periods of time. It is often too hot or too bright. I must always remain half in shadow. This doesn't mean that I am completely accepting of the daylight. No, Raoul makes sure that I still appreciate the light. As I stare up at the wide expanse of the moon on this dark night, I make sure that half my body stands in the faint light that comes from our bedroom. I am tainted, a creature of light stained permanently by the darkness, but I am not consumed by it.

The night will always be a dangerous time. It is when Raoul cannot protect me from the strength of _his_ call. "Beware the siren song," Erik once warned me. The night sky served as the inky black darkness that was his lake, cool against my fingertips, and Erik is forever a siren. His music of the night shall never leave me, calling to me eternally.

I try to avoid making love to Raoul in the night for all these reasons. The first time was unavoidable, as it was our wedding _night._ Divorced from vision, I quickly discovered my mistake as Raoul's handsome face was transformed into Erik's twisted visage and Raoul's young, firm body was replaced by Erik's toned, thin frame. I had to bite my lip until it bled so I did not scream Erik's name out to the heavens, so sure that _he_ was the man making love to me.

This does not mean I do not love Raoul, quite the contrary; I love Raoul with all my heart. He is my morning sun, warming me from the chill of the night. And yet, I love Erik as well. He is my darkness, hiding me from the evils of the world. So sure that I am Persephone reborn, in love with both eternal light and eternal darkness, that I sign my diary with her name, _my name_. I am two people, as was she. I am Erik's queen of darkness, and I am Raoul's innocent maiden. I wish I could tear myself in two and live out both destinies instead of living this double existence.

But more than anything, I wish I did not eat the Pomegranate, the sweet irresistible taste of his music. But I was hungry for that dark rhythm that thrummed through him and the fruit of his labor proved too tempting. And so now I am forever part of the night.

I am Christine. I am Persephone. I am forever damned and forever blessed. I am insatiable, neither the darkness nor the light can fully satisfy my cravings. I am apart of both worlds and I have no place in either. I am both eternally innocent and eternally cruel. I am so good and yet so completely wrong. I am forever. Torn.

**.end.**

_Please review._


End file.
